Chapter Text
A seven-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki trembled in the heat of the unfamiliar place. The man–more of a monster than a man–had brought him to this place. He fell for so long, seeing the colors and the worlds pass by him. He laid on the black ground, staring up at the now dark skies.
He missed his family. He missed his mom, with her radiant smile. He missed his little sisters, so small and cute. He missed his dad, as goofy as he was.
He wanted to go home.
And then there was a whisper– no, not a sound but a feeling. It echoed in his head and Ichigo looked towards the murky yellow sky.
That day, a seven-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki gazed upon the form of Hell.
Looking for a lost child in Hell was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Most of the inhabitants were giant Kushanada and sinners with dark chains growing out of them. A child should stand out amongst them, but Hell was too large and sprawling with its different layers.
But Aizen could sense a wisp of reiatsu, one that seemed chaotic yet in total balance. It was a poor attempt at concealing reiatsu, at least by Captain standards. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. Someone was watching them.
Tousen had already drawn his sword, sensing the reiatsu in the area. Gin’s hand had only touched his zanpakto’s hilt. The air was thick with tension.
And then suddenly Aizen dodged out of the way, reflexively moving away from the black blade that was about to strike him in the head from behind, a strike aiming to kill and would have succeeded if he hadn’t moved.
“Shoot to Kill, Shinso.”
There was a slight noise of surprise as the figure leapt out of the way, balancing carefully meters away from them, two swords, a rather large blade and a trench knife. For some reason, Aizen could barely make out his features, as if his face was shrouded by mist yet it should be as clear as day. All he could see was a boy with long striking orange hair, a ragged shihakusho, and two eyes, one brown and the other gold with black sclera.
“Are you Ichigo Kurosaki?” Aizen asked.
The boy scowled. “How the hell do you know that? Who’re you?”
Aizen ignored the crass language. “My name is Aizen Sosuke, and please lower your blade.”
Ichigo growled. “You’re shinigami, aren’t you. You’re wearing those shitty white robes, just like he did.”
Aizen’s eyebrows rose. “Him?”
Ichigo stayed silent and rushed at Aizen with both blades drawn. Kaname’s sword clashed between the longer sword and Ichigo leapt back when Shinso extended between Ichigo and his sword. “Stand down,” Aizen ordered. The boy should respect strength, as many violent creatures do. Kaname opened his mouth, about to protest when a blue slash of blue reiatsu hurtled from the black blade in silence.
“Bakudo 81: Danku,” Aizen intoned, calling upon the translucent barrier and cancelling out the blast and a loud explosion and cloud of dust erupted in front of them. To his side, a small boom echoed in a familiar sound, one he heard in Hueco Mundo.
A flurry of blades slashed at Aizen, grazing his chest and would have done serious damage if he did not move. Ichigo swept his trench blade to block the returning strike and brought down his zanpakto down on Kyoka Suigetsu, catching the blade between the whole in the cleaver blade and blue sparks began to fly from the blade like firecrackers. “Getsuga Tenshou.”
Aizen first saw the blood fly from Ichigo’s hand and then the blade in it, stretched from a distance. The reiatsu gathering from the blade stopped, bursting before it could even finish. “Looked like you were having trouble, Captain Aizen,” Gin’s smile was as sharp as his zanpakto. A string of loud repetitive curses erupted from Ichigo’s mouth and he dashed back with sonido. Tousen flashed behind him struck downwards into Ichigo’s shoulder, digging deep into flesh and Ichigo hardly flinched and instantly struck back, his sword gashing into Tousen’s hand and would have taken it off if he had been any slower.
Ichigo’s lips were pulled back into snarl. His shoulder bubbled up, white mixed with red blood as the muscle and bone sew itself back together, leaving nothing but new skin behind. “Fucker,” Ichigo spat at Tousen. Tousen had no reply and pointed his sword upwards and moved his arm in a clock-wise direction. “Suzumushi Nishiki: Benihikō” Tousen commanded and hundreds of blades formed from thin air. Ichigo swore again and flashed away as the weapons continued to rain down on the places he once stood.
Another sonido and Ichigo was gone. The blistering reiatsu signature appeared meters away but it wasn’t the rapid rise of reiatsu that alerted him, but the sudden red light pooling the area. Ichigo’s palm was stretched out, red and black mixing together in harmony and giving the almost miniature sun a dangerous glow, burning so bright that Aizen could feel the temperature rise from the concentration of energy. Ichigo’s mouth was twisted into a wide grin befitting of a predator, a hollow.
Aizen’s eyes widened.
“Cero!”
Aizen would have cursed too if he didn’t have a dignified exterior. He casted another Danku, the shield protecting him and his cohorts from the blast of energy but not the shockwave. Wind and dirt whipped around them as the very ground trembled from the sheer force. The explosions seemed to go on forever and then time seemed to stop, still with anticipation.
“Are you shitting me?” Ichigo’s voice rose an octave amid the smoke. The smoke dissipated enough that Aizen could see Ichigo but gazing directly at him was difficult to the point of nausea. His form wavered as if he was not fully within the plane of reality, unstable to the point where he appeared to be glitching. Ichigo seemed to shift and all Aizen saw was a black form of something that seemed to pierce the endless skies of Hell, a chaotic amalgamation composed of shadowy flames that somehow gave off light. When Aizen blinked, the monster disappeared, or rather changed shape into something he could perceive.
The situation was getting dangerous. Ichigo’s mismatched eyes fixed on Aizen with murderous intent. His hand began to lift again and Aizen’s hand already grabbed the hilt of his sword and he drew it bringing it high into Ichigo’s view. “Shatter, Kyoka Suigetsu.”
“What the fuck did you do,” Ichigo hissed, the alarm barely hidden from his voice. Both of his zanpakto were in his hands, poised to defend himself from the perceived threat.
The battle was already won.
Ichigo’s eyes widened and he slashed the air around him, attacking the enemy that did not exist. “Already using the hypnosis?” Gin teased.
“At the moment, he was a threat,” Aizen responded. “But now he can do nothing against me.”
He raised his hand. “Bakudo 61: Rikujōkōrō.” Yellow beams of light tore into Ichigo’s torso, pinning his arms to his sides. The illusion shattered and Ichigo screamed in fury, reiatsu growing heavy with darkness as he struggled in the bonds. His other eye began to rapidly hollowfy and
“What the hell did you do?” Ichigo snarled, his form shifting and churning like an ocean. Wings, seven eyes, a mess of shapes, shadows, and light seemed to take his place in his frenzy. Aizen focused his attention to the space around him. “What do you want from me?”
“What I want?” Aizen mused. “I want to take the Soul King’s throne.”
Ichigo stared at him in disbelief and let out a harsh laugh. “Are you fucking with me? You, take the Soul King’s throne?”
Aizen smiled through the mocking. “And what of it? Do you not know what the Soul King is?”
His laughter died away. “I have an idea,” Ichigo muttered, looking away. Aizen’s smile widened, sharp like a dagger.
“The Soul King is the reason you are down here,” Aizen began, his tone changed to something resembling pity. “Do you not want justice?” Ichigo was silent, staring at the ground. Aizen continued. “I would like you to join me to kill the Soul King.”
“You really want to kill the Soul King?” Ichigo scoffed. “I thought he was the shinigami’s god?” He paused. “Unless you’ve betrayed the Shinigami.”
Aizen did not need to respond. Ichigo’s eyes narrowed. “So, a bunch of traitors. Why should I trust people who would betray their own?”
“Because I can take you out of Hell,” Aizen responded. “You can leave with me.”
Ichigo snorted. “Leave Hell‒ why would I want to do that? Hell was kind to me.”
“You’re a creepy kid, huh. No sane person would find Hell comforting,” Gin mused. Ichigo sent a glare.
“But you are a prisoner, do you not want freedom?” Aizen asked. Ichigo stared at him, his head tilted as if he was listening to something–or someone. The silence stretched on until Ichigo’s gaze focused.
“Fine, I’ll go with you.”
Aizen smiled. “Excellent decision.”
Karin’s bow was flimsy at best. She pursed her lips and tried to focus on stabilizing the reiatsu in her hand and it wavered violently. She glanced to the side. Yuzu’s bow was more solid, but she frowned at it as if she noticed something off. They really weren’t supposed to practice without parent supervision, mostly Masaki’s supervision.
Yuzu seemed unfocused, her brow furrowed. “Karin, did you hear something?”
Karin frowned, her fingers trying to balance the reishi. “Not really.”
Yuzu kept looking outside with veiled impatience. “When are Mom and Dad coming home?”
“They said they had a meeting with someone,” Karin responded, not looking up. They were normally never left alone, but it must have been urgent for their parents to leave them home alone.
“Yeah, but…”
Then Karin heard it, a bone-chilling scream that echoed through the night. Yuzu’s eyes went wide. “Hollow.” Karin nearly swore and before they could do anything, the walls gave way as a not entirely human hand burst through.
She was lost in the chaos as debris scattered. She coughed and sputtered, and her vison blurred. “Yuzu!” She called out. She bit back a yell when she moved her arm. She glanced down, and her arm was bent in an unnatural position. Broken.
There was a shape, dark with a white mask, hunched over with teeth bared. Karin nearly screamed when she saw Yuzu’s unconscious body on the ground, vulnerable with enough spiritual power to be of consideration.
“Hey, Hollow!” Karin shouted. Her instincts screamed at her to shut up, to run as the hollow turned to face her. Her arm was broken, and she could barely form a bow, she was useless. But she couldn’t let it go near Yuzu.
Then all Karin could see was black as someone moved in front of her. A sword gleamed at her side with deadly light. A Shinigami.
Karin froze, a Shinigami would be dangerous, especially with Karin’s heritage. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. “Stay back, human!” the Shinigami ordered.
“Wait, but my sister‒”
“I’ll get her, you stay back.”
The hollow roared in challenge and the Shinigami moved forward, flashing behind it and slashing behind it. The hollow growled and darted past her towards Yuzu.
Time felt like it had slowed, and her body moved. She flew forwards in a hasty Hirenkyaku, moving clumsily in front of her sister. She didn’t have time for doubts, the thoughts of any self-preservation were out the window and she prepared to take the blow, praying for blut vene to just activate for once in her life and squeezed her eyes shut.
Blood splattered on her face and she opened her eyes cautiously.
The Shinigami was in front of her again, the hollow’s teeth digging into her shoulder. “Why did you do that?” The Shinigami demanded. She pried the hollow’s jaw off her arm and stumbled back, blood dripping from the wound. She slumped to the ground, panting and clenching her wound.
“We’re finished,” the Shinigami said almost matter-of-factly. “The hollow is going to eat us all.”
“No,” Karin whispered, and then her tone became firmer and louder. “No. I refuse to accept this. There has to be something we can do.”
The Shinigami paused, and her expression became resigned, as if preparing herself for something painful. “I can give you my powers,” the Shinigami said. “I’m in no shape to fight, but you can.”
“I’ll do it!” Karin responded without hesitation.
The Shinigami’s gaze focused, and she readied her sword. “I’ll have to stab you.”
Karin forced a smirk. “Well, can’t be the worst thing I’ve done.” She pressed her hands on the blade.
It was a spur in the moment, one last thing Karin wanted to know in case she died here. “What’s your name?”
The Shinigami smiled. “My name is Rukia Kuchiki.”
“Karin Kurosaki.”
And then the blade slid through her chest and power erupted from her body.